


Layers of Her

by Fervent_dreamer



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 5+1 Things, Drabbles, F/M, Leaving to protect you, Longing, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 05:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17522873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fervent_dreamer/pseuds/Fervent_dreamer
Summary: Five times Solas saw Lavellan in a different light and the one time she saw who he truly was.Three hundred word snippets of Solas's thoughts on the Inquisitor throughout the course of their relationship.





	Layers of Her

**Author's Note:**

> An idea that kept nagging at me until I wrote it down...

** 1                                                                                   
**

 The first time he saw her, he saw another mistake.

This one unique in that it was attached to a body. Only the latest in a long line that resulted in a broken sky and a green glow in the center of a slender palm.

The key to his orb was unreachable. During the days he was allowed to examine it, he tried most ways he could think of to access it. That is, without actually taking the hand itself. It would work, but the guards, not to mention the Seeker, watched his every move, and he didn’t think they’d take kindly to dismembering their prisoner. Patience was key. He didn’t fancy taking on an army with his current powers, such as they were.

The anchor out of his reach and use for now, he did a cursory examination of the body. How could someone of this time just fall through the Fade? In the beginning even he had troubles physically traveling there only to suffer ill effects when he returned. Yet, other than the coma the person seemed to be in, he could sense no damage to their flesh or corruption of their mind. Fascinating.

In truth, he hadn’t realize the person was elvan until he heard whispers and preposterous speculations during breaks from studying the mark to lend his aid with the demons spilling out unchecked from the rift.

Initially, he dismissed the information outright. It wasn’t as if it mattered.

Or did it?

That “sent by Andraste” talk was nonsense. No God worth their mettle would lay their plans upon a single person. Like the Orlesian court, there would be multiple plans and machinations in place with only minor dramatic flares.

Was the fact that the person was elvan the key to their survival?

Something to ponder.

 

**2**

The second time he saw her, he saw a tool.

Conscious, unarmed, and running towards an open rift it was clear she hadn’t the faintest clue as to what she was doing. However this elf, with her braided hair and her horrific valeslein, seemed eager to try anyway.

How useful.

“Quickly, before more come through!” he snatched her hand. Like reacted to like, and the rift closed. Thank the spirits. This bought him years of time instead of the months he would have had to scramble through had the anchor not worked.

He observed as Lavellan introduced herself then led them through various battles and bouts. She had a knack for leading even when she wasn’t trying. Solas began to fully see the opportunity she presented.

If he could direct her, guide her, he could have her close rifts and wield the power in her lithe frame. The Inquisition would look less at him, the apostate who “stumbled” into their problems, and more at her. Speculation about her occupied every theorist the second she fell out of the Fade.

Fear ran rampant underneath a scarred sky, and Lavellan drew the sharp attention of civilian and soldier alike with her “inexplicable” powers and impossible feats. So bright a beacon cast a long shadow. For Solas, it might be long enough for him to hide in, and to plan.

They would inevitably run into Corypheus again, and when they did, they would encounter the orb. A lock did not open without the key. That would be his chance to impress upon her the importance of such an artifact, and the urgency in which they needed to acquire it for themselves.

Then both key and lock would be within his reach, and he could pluck them both then take off into the night.

 

**3**

The third time he “saw” her, he saw a woman.

A strange fact to occur him a few weeks into their acquaintanceship, but her femininity simply struck him one day.

He noticed the way she tucked a strand of hair behind a delicately pointed ear as she poured over maps of the Hinterlands. He marked the set of her slender shoulders as she refused to back down in negotiations with Chancellor Roderick. She unintentionally beckoned his gaze on the battlefield with the graceful arcs of her staff before she rained magic down upon demons and men alike, beautifully unyielding.

Give her Elvhen armor, and a more intricate staff, and she could be any one of the personal guards of Andruil, Mythal, or Ghilan’nain.

Lavellan latched onto a problem and held it until it was solved. Not a mabari with a bone. No, that was too crude. More a benevolent goddess, bending the world to her will; gentle, relentless, even harsh when necessary.

It was… admirable.

Her curiosity also struck him. Lavellan held a desire to know what the past was truly like, not just what her elders told her. It was so unlike the other elves he had encountered in this time. She was beautiful, curious, and had a witty streak that had rocked him on his heels more than once. The heady combination of traits once would have-

But this wasn’t Arlathan. She wasn’t one of the People.

A shade, a sham, a distraction.

He would continue to teach her, and help her as a means to an end. Nothing more. He wouldn’t allow himself to forget his purpose here. Solas needed to atone, needed to bring his people back to the glory they once held. The past had many problems, but it was still better than this nightmare.

 

** 4                                                                                   
**

The fourth time he saw her, he saw home.

He always felt more himself in the fade. Spirits and magic surrounded him, ready to bend to his will. Much like a soldier felt at ease with his sword in reach and a sailor on the sea, Solas felt more right here than he did in the waking world with the confidence of the Dread Wolf rather than just the mistakes of Solas.

He blamed this for his reaction.

Lavellan pressed her lips to his. Flesh, magic, and a bright searing burst of intent all mingled for a fleeting moment, then it tore itself away.

Even before his sleep, it had been a hundred years since he’d tasted that particular spice, too busy with his plans and his people. He wouldn’t give it up that quickly, oh no.

He caught his teasing prey and tugged her back to him, kissing and searching for that taste he’d been missing for so long. For a moment, everything felt _right_.

The charged air around them, her body yielding to his touch, the feel of her spirit reaching for his-

He ripped himself away, but she followed him, seducing him for a few moments more.

“No.” he said. She didn’t know him, his identity, what he’d done...

_But it isn’t real here_ , the Wolf whispered to him. _With things as they are, it is only a dream_.

“It’s not right, not even here.” he told himself more than her.

“What do you mean here?” her pert mouth frowned in confusion.

“Where did you think we were?” He used a chuckle to cover how shaken he was, even as liquid eyes flashed in sudden understanding.

Solas refused to let himself realize the reason she was so confused was that the fade felt natural to her too.

 

** 5                                                                                   
**

The fifth time he saw her, while he held her hand and exchanged small kisses, he saw an impossible future laid out before him.

For a brief moment, he saw himself setting aside his cause to love this rare and beautiful woman. They would create a life together where they reeducated the elves in the old ways, slowly helping them reclaim their heritage and their birth rights.

Only… she would die. And he would not. Their lost connection to the fade made these elves age at a distressing rate, dropping like mayflies. Solas hadn’t cared because they weren’t “real” elves. All of them were barely functioning, ignorant shades. Then Lavellan opened his eyes, her grace, her subtlety, her thirst for knowledge made him feel more at home than his strolls through the fade. And he would lose her.

That future, no matter how beautiful, was closed to him. It was doomed to be little more than an idle wish, or a sweet regret.

Briefly, he considered taking her with him, laying out his past and his plan before her judgement and hoping her love for him would be strong enough. He discarded that idea too.

A person’s spirit was the same as a fade spirit. It would change under the influence of circumstance, people, and choices. Solas knew, _knew_ \- her soul would change around him. It would change to match him, dark, bitter, ruthless. He couldn’t do that, not to her. He loved her too much to change her like those mages did to Wisdom.

Solas needed distance, he needed to leave, she needed to be as far from his influence as possible.

But first, one last kiss. One last gift.

If he couldn’t stand to see her changed, he equally couldn’t stand to see her marked a lowly slave.

 

**+1**

“You’re the Dread Wolf.” In her voice and in her face he could feel the dawning comprehension, he could see her horror, the disgust, the betrayal.

Rightly so.

She saw him in his entirety, as both Solas and Fen’harel. He stood before her scrutiny tall and unashamed, but not proud. No, his pride died a long time ago. Shame no longer held a place in him either. After everything, it was a pointless emotion. He could only move forward from here.

She questioned him again, and it broke his heart to see her surprise when he answered her. He spent so long those last weeks refusing her queries, sometimes to the point of anger on both their parts. He knew the experience would mark her, but it hurt him to see the result all the same.

Here, strong in his cause and his power, he could give her all the answers he earlier denied her.

The anchor rebelled against her. Green lightning arced through her hand along her arm, tearing a muted scream from her lips. His heart ached for her. He blocked the mark, a temporary measure, but one that would allow them to finish talking.

Even after he explained his past, even after he told her the truth, her first reaction was to be selfless.

“Let me help you Solas.”

“I cannot do that to you, vhenan.”

He kissed her. Then he left her.

He caught a glimpse of her anguished expression in the Eluvian before he passed through and was grimly satisfied. She knew. She could not mistake him for anything less than the villain he was, of both the past and the future.

After all, what man could leave the woman he loved, broken and alone, while he set out to destroy her and her world?

**Author's Note:**

> Initially I was going to write the plus one from Lavellan's perspective, but I couldn't get anything I was happy with. So Solas continued to steal the show, greedy bastard.


End file.
